


The Vagaries of Magic

by Banapis



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Mystery Character(s), Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-23 07:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banapis/pseuds/Banapis
Summary: Copia has been tasked to perform a summoning ritual, which appears to not be working.





	1. Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Copia ponders the problems with his summoning ritual and averts a killing spree.

The summoning ritual was still not working. Copia had gone over every detail and could not figure out why.  He knew that magic had its own rules and sometimes the reason it seemed to not work was simply "because." Still, that seemed like a neophyte excuse and it irritated him to no end. On the plus side, the end results left a terrifying sight for the locals to find, so he supposed it wasn't a total failure.

He was walking along a wooded path and pondering what the effect would be on the ritual if he subtly changed the wording of one key phrase when he noticed the apples. The hard, knobby - and absolutely delicious smelling - apples.  

Copia wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to supplement those damn travel rations. He hadn't had anything else in several days and he was still convinced the vile things were reason enough to go on a killing spree. Perhaps when I get home, I should press the point with the dullest knife I can find, he thought as he loaded his bag with enough of the fruit to last a few days. Then again, for all I know, perhaps that is precisely why the church supplies them.  
   
He took a small white knife out of his pack and cut one of the apples into thin slices as he headed back to the path. The apples were as delicious as they smelled. He hummed happily to himself as he continued on his way and temporarily forgot his problems with the ritual.

Copia knew it would be a while before he arrived in the next town, but he didn't mind the long stretches of road. He relished the time alone, pondering the universe as well as arcane mysteries, despite the current problem of the ritual. He got so little time alone back home in the ministry. So it was that he had walked quite a ways before he realized he was being followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. A Pale White Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Copia finds some decent shelter and a companion for the night.

Many pleasant miles on the verdant path had passed beneath Copia's feet and dusk was not far off. He was sure he was still being followed, but he had yet to see exactly who - or what - it was. He almost wished the ghouls were back so they could scout the area, but he could not retrieve them from their realm for a while yet.  

It was odd.  Sometimes his follower made a ridiculous racket as it crashed through the undergrowth by the side of the path, like a wounded animal. Other times, there was an otherworldly hum as the leaves were kicked up in the wake of something unseen racing toward him, but it never seemed to reach him. After a while, he had almost longed to hear that hum. It sounded as beautiful to him as it was terrible. 

Dark clouds had started to gather earlier and now they were making their way across the sky. It promised to be a turbulent night and he hoped to find shelter before the storm arrived.  As he walked on, he mentally added "A soaked and miserable Copia in an inadequate tent" to "Those absolutely vile travel rations" on the list of reasons to go a killing spree. 

A mile or so down the path, he found an abandoned barn, but it didn't appear to have been so for very long. It was reasonably clean, either someone had let the animals out or had never brought them back in one night. There was plenty of straw laid by, ready to be spread into the adjoining stalls.  By the smell of it, there was a loft full of hay as well. The sweet smell of the hay sparked memories of his home back in Norcia as took off his cassock and set about making camp. It reminded him of the chamomile his Nona grew. For some reason, he also remembered the time his sister had her eye on a boy and he chuckled. Copia had spiked his drink with a strong tincture of cascara sagada. The poor boy cramped so badly he thought he was dying. I wonder if she ever forgave me? He grinned wider.  Knowing her, he thought, she probably still names the rooster after me knowing one day it will face a hatchet.

He was almost finished with camp when he thought he heard a light knock followed by some scratching on the door. Off in the distance, the hum had also returned. 

Pulling his black handled dagger from his pack, he quietly walked toward the door. He pushed back the latch and the door started to open under its own weight. Suddenly, Copia didn't have time to react as something made its way in and he was attacked by what seemed at first to be a very big, screaming demon.

"Aw shit!!"

He had enough time to flail his arms in an attempt to protect his face, but almost as soon as it started, the battle was over. The dust and debris began to settle as he shut the door. 

He tried to knock the worst of the dust and dirt off his clothes while he got his first good look at his attacker. He raised an eyebrow as he watched his now not so large assailant wandering over and inspecting where Copia had set up for the night. Apparently, he did a decent job because she found herself a spot in the straw and made herself comfortable. It was obvious that he was not going have any say in the matter. 

Giving in to the inevitable, he followed her example and settled into the straw with a sigh. He put the black dagger on the straw by his side before pulling one of the apples and his white handled knife out of his pack. As he peeled the fruit, he tossed the broken pieces to his new companion, who seemed to be delighted with her good luck.

He chuckled as she daintily picked at her food. Suddenly, he was glad the ghouls weren't here after all. "I can imagine the stories the ghouls would tell if they found out about you, yes? 'Ut oh! Here comes Copia, the dread Red Angel of Death and His pale white...chicken. Look out! He may be out of a job soon. She looks like she's going to lay an Egg of Pestilence!"

The hen simply replied with a quiet and contented "brwaaaaaaaaaaaa."

He snickered as he sliced the apple. They ate in companionable silence as the rain started to fall, pattering gently on the roof. He removed the seeds from the apple core and tossed it to the hen before rummaging in his pack for something more filling.

Suddenly the otherworldly hum came closer to the barn. Copia forgot all about his pack because there seemed to be something hidden within the hum, but he couldn't quite make it out. He was listening to it intently when something crashed heavily into the door.


End file.
